The Importance of Tea
by Slythie
Summary: Harry. Draco. Post-Hogwarts. With extra bickering and plenty of tea.


Author: Slythie Email: dracoharrysnog@yahoo.com  
  
The Importance of Tea  
  
Draco Malfoy kept his head angled low, ear-length blond hair brushing against his right eye as he peered out the taxi's window. The driver obviously wanted to instigate conversation, but was deterred by the expression of annoyance on Draco's face, one which had become a permanent fixture over the years.  
  
Draco jerked in horror, his mask of incessant irritation briefly lifted, and he let out a faint cry as the taxi skidded to avoid striking down a mutt. He was rather surprised when the dog appeared on the opposite side of the street, apparently unharmed.  
  
The taxi driver settled down in his seat, straightening his shoulders and regaining the composure he refused to admit had been lost to begin with.  
  
"Well, that was exciting!" he chirped, evidently unfazed.  
  
"Yes, it was just thrilling," Draco snapped in reply. They had just missed the stoplight, which was an ignominiously long one. "Now, I hope you haven't forgotten-"  
  
He blinked, stared, and blinked again. Harry Potter was now standing next to the dog, examining it in what Draco deemed to be a rather indecent manner. Draco mentally urged the taxi driver to cut over several lanes of stopped traffic to block Harry's view, but refrained, not having a reasonable explanation for the strange request available.  
  
As Harry began looking around, Draco turned away from the window and tried to seem inconspicuous. Why he thought it was him Harry was looking for to begin with Draco didn't know, but he figured he was allowed to be suspicious, not having seen anyone from Hogwarts for nearly six years. Draco slumped down in the back seat and closed his eyes, hoping that the old cliché "if I can't see it, it can't see me" would hold true.  
  
Tap. Taptap. TapTAPTAP.  
  
Draco cringed.  
  
"Do you know that person?" the taxi driver inquired of Draco, pointing at Harry, who was now tapping on the window with a steadily increasing fervour.  
  
"Um. No. Well, not really. Sort of," Draco replied, flustered. Glancing at Harry uncertainly, he opened the window a crack.  
  
"Excuse me, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt you, but did either of you see anything strange happen recently?" Harry looked between them carefully, he was fingering a police badge which Draco could have sworn wasn't there minutes before.  
  
"No, nothing," Draco replied quietly, looking anywhere but at Harry (and in doing so, decided that the floor was the most pleasant; they had hit traffic in a rather gross area).  
  
"What are you talking about? That dog there jumped in front of the car and then wasn't in the way anymore after I skidded a bit. . . ." the driver said rather enthusiastically for just having described what easily could have been an upsetting event.  
  
"Was it completely strange? Inexplicable?" Draco realized now that Harry thought him to be a Muggle, who had possibly witnessed magic being performed. Did I perform accidental magic to save the dog? Draco wondered.  
  
"Oh, yes. Most definitely. Almost like magic!" the driver said, chuckling.  
  
Harry arched an eyebrow. "All right then. Thank you for your time." He reached for his pocket, withdrawing his wand quickly. "Obliviate!" he said loudly, watching the driver's eyes blink slowly in shock and confusion. He quickly pointed the wand at Draco, readying himself to repeat the action.  
  
"NO! Potter, I don't need you to fuck with my mind, thanks," Draco said, sinking back into the seat.  
  
Harry blinked at him, recognition slowly forming. "Malfoy?"  
  
"I'm supposed to be dead. Leave me alone. The light's about to change, and I really have to go . . . Away," Draco said.  
  
"Uh. Are you getting out? You have to pay still," the driver said, looking very baffled, not remembering having stopped.  
  
"Yes, he is," Harry said. He smirked at Draco's horrified expression.  
  
"No, I'm not," Draco said imperiously.  
  
"Here's his money," Harry said to the driver, "Come on. I think we need to have a little chat, don't you?" Harry arched an eyebrow and waited for Draco to laboriously pull himself from the taxi.  
  
Draco stared resolutely at the ground. "What'd you want from me? I'm perfectly miserable on my own, thanks, and don't need you or anyone else to guilt trip me about leaving."  
  
Harry stared at him. "You. You're supposed to be dead. I liked thinking you were dead."  
  
"Well, thanks. That makes me feel much better."  
  
"Damn it, it's not about how you feel." Harry stepped forward. "The whole of Hogwarts was in an uproar for weeks when you disappeared. Fingers were pointed, blame was propagated, and everyone ended up angry. Then the war really started, and now people are still bitter that you were the one to 'start it up'; they all think you were in the middle of it, did you know?"  
  
"I wanted to leave," Draco said simply, ears threatening to burn. "And it didn't seem anyone wanted me around. You certainly didn't seem pleased with my presence."  
  
"That's not what it's about and you know it." Harry stepped closer, staring down at Draco from the two-inch extra distance in his favour.  
  
"Why the fuck do you care? Just let me be. I'm not hurting anyone by being alive and alone," Draco whispered angrily. Muggles brushed by them, occupied with their own duties and uninterested in the activities of the two angry men on the sidewalk. He turned to leave, but found himself in Harry's firm grasp.  
  
"You are coming with me. And we are going to talk."  
  
"Talk?"  
  
"Talk. You have to talk to someone, honestly. What the hell are you doing? Living as a Muggle? That's just criminal for your values, Malfoy. You must be pretty damn desperate."  
  
Draco glowered.  
  
He hated it when people other than himself were right.  
  
+++++  
  
"Tea?" Harry gestured to a self-cooking pot of steaming tea.  
  
"I suppose," Draco said trying not to look like he wanted it as much as he actually did.  
  
"Sugar? Cream?"  
  
"One spoonful and no cream," Draco said confidently. Even if it was the only thing he was certain about in his life, he was quite sure how he preferred his tea to be prepared. "You live alone?" he inquired. With unwashed dishes and scattered papers, Harry obviously didn't keep his abode prepared for guests. Either that or he simply didn't care, which was always a possibility.  
  
"Mmm," Harry grunted in reply.  
  
"What happened to the Weasel? I expected you two to be living as flatmates for all eternity."  
  
"He was killed." Harry's eyes flashed darkly, and Draco reeled briefly in surprise.  
  
"Oh. That's . . . too bad."  
  
"Don't give me that bullshit," Harry said before taking a deep sip of boiling tea. He spat out a bit of it in horror, knowing his tongue was not going to forgive him for his carelessness.  
  
Draco blinked and pretended to not notice. "And Granger didn't meet the same fate, I hope?"  
  
"She is perfectly fine with Percy in Scotland. Not that you actually care," Harry smirked.  
  
This was not the Harry Potter Draco expected to exist five years after Hogwarts. Bitterness (over what?) blared out of his every response, and he was visibly angry over something other than Draco's sudden appearance in the World of the Living. Draco was intrigued, but tried to keep his interest out of his tone.  
  
"What happened to Minny Weasley? Wasn't she head-over-heels for you?"  
  
"Her name is Ginny. And I dated her for about a day before deciding she was absolutely horrible. Judgmental and boring." Harry studied Draco for a moment. "But we're supposed to be talking about you. You who suddenly showed up-"  
  
"I did not show up: you showed up and threw a fit. I was doing just fine on my own, thank your tea-spitting ways very much," Draco said indignantly. "You boggled that taxi driver's mind, by the way. I think you may have permanently damaged his mind."  
  
"It's better than it was when he thought he'd seen magic being performed!" Harry spilled a bit of tea in his excitement.  
  
"He didn't think there was any magic; he just thought it was interesting that the dog avoided Sudden Death by doing absolutely nothing."  
  
"Hmmph. Well, it's my job to make sure Muggles don't become suspicious over the presence of magic, and I think I succeeded."  
  
"You're being awfully friendly for someone who's supposed to be doing a job, you know."  
  
"What'm I supposed to do? Just let you wander back into the Muggle world and let you continue corrupting them?"  
  
"I've not corrupted anyone. I've not even really talked to anyone."  
  
"But you've been living in it for years. Surely you've made some connections."  
  
"Some," Draco said enigmatically. "But I doubt they remember me."  
  
Harry stared at him. "Why wouldn't they remember you?"  
  
"I'm terribly boring." Draco suddenly found a fingernail to be enthralling.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Not interesting. Not stimulating. Forgettable. I'm worthless. Let me go now; this chat isn't achieving anything."  
  
"I've not forgotten you, and I'm quite certain the rest of the Wizarding World would be most interested to know where the son of the most notorious Death Eater has buggered off to!"  
  
"Right," Draco said rolling his eyes. "Fuck Father and fuck you too."  
  
"He's dead, you know- was executed by the Dementor's Kiss for war crimes. You didn't like your own father?"  
  
"How could I? He was crass and cruel, and I hated him since I first started thinking about things in ways other than I'd simply been told to."  
  
"Oh. I thought you worshipped him."  
  
"Worshipped?"  
  
"Worshipped."  
  
"Ew, no. He was a dirty man."  
  
"Dirty?"  
  
"Dirty. He dyed his hair magically, too."  
  
"Don't you?"  
  
"No! I've never. I inherited Mother's blonde hair, not Father's dirty blond colour."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"If we're just going to argue over my natural hair colour then maybe I should leave."  
  
"No, no. I really do need to talk to you."  
  
"Need to? Or is it just want to?"  
  
"Both."  
  
"Well, as long as you're honest about it. . . ."  
  
"Drink your tea." 


End file.
